Rage of Fire
by Half an Inch
Summary: Upon arriving at his home, he immediately opened the file. It contained only one leaf of paper. That paper contained three words: Kill Alex Rider.
1. Chapter 1

**Rage of Fire**

**By Half an Inch**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

A black-haired, twenty five year-old man walked briskly down the sidewalk, all while pulling his wool overcoat tighter around his slim form.

To the causal observer, he looked like a normal pedestrian making his way home after a long and cold winter day.

However, this man was anything but normal.

If asked, he would claim that he hadn't killed the young man laying in an alley near Cuerdan street.

He would say he had been visiting a professor who taught in the University of Liverpool. If someone was to take a closer look at this professors background, they would have found out that he didn't exist.

But the problem was that no one had even thought to ask the young man. To the world, he was another ordinary face in a crowd of millions.

To the underworld, however, he was the most experienced and feared bounty hunter to have ever been hired.

Rumors had flown, claiming that this mysterious man had once worked for MISO. After two years, he had rose to claim the title of top agent. Always the best. Always on task.

He was the perfect agent. Loyal, lethal, and charming.

Then, he had been exposed to the cruelty of the government.

He would often compare it to a gargoyle.

Ugly, monstrous, and hideous.

Now, the man battled the ongoing snow storm just because he had a meeting with a client in five minutes.

This was a usual occurrence, considering he was always being called to do the difficult jobs others had failed to complete.

He was supposed to meet him at a restaurant. The name: Fleur dé Falafel.

It was a French/Arab restaurant. He could've cared less, but his training had forced him to remember things. Even if they weren't the least bit important.

Moments later, the food joint loomed into view. The man reached up, brushed the snow from atop his head, and walked in like he owned the place.

A waiter offered to direct him to a table, but he waved the waiter away. "Thank you, but I'm in no need of assistance." He said coldly.

The shell-shocked waiter just nodded mutely and went back to her post at the front door.

Experienced eyes raked his surroundings for any sign of a sniper or eavesdropping spies. After making sure that all threats were eliminated, he walked over to a table in a secluded area near the end of the restaurant.

He sat down without any invitation. A plate had already been placed in front of him. His clients often bought him dinner as an extra token of gratitude, even though he rarely, if ever, touched the food.

"Hello, Mr. Felix, if that even is your name. How are you?" The man, Hamilton, said warmly from his side of the table.

'Felix' waved to a waiter and ordered a glass of water. He wasn't going to drink. He was on duty after all.

"I'm fine. Thank you for asking. How are you?" He responded in a Liverpudlian accent. 'Felix' was supposedly from Liverpool, after all.

Hamilton's cheery demeanor slid off his face, the weight of it causing his mouth to turn downward into a frown.

"Quite the contrary, actually. Someone's been bothering me."

'Felix' raised an eyebrow and pretended to act interested. He was a very good actor. "May I ask who?"

Hamilton sighed. "I'm afraid I can't disclose such information in a public place. People these days are so unpredictable. Don't know who to trust anymore."

'Felix' removed the hand that had been resting on top his handgun. Patience, he told himself. Don't shoot the old man no matter how annoying they are.

"Oh?"

Hamilton slid a folder over the table. Felix reached out with a slender hand and grabbed the folder.

He recognized the dismissal and stood up, pocketing the file in his coat. Hamilton looked upset that had had just wasted over fifty dollars on food that hadn't even been touched.

Felix smirked at the mans expression, and walked out the door, into the biting cold outside.

Upon arriving at his home, he immediately opened the file.

It contained only one leaf of paper. That paper contained three words:

_Kill Alex Rider_.

* * *

**Who do you think the bounty hunter is? It's someone you know. *Hint, Hint***

**Should I continue? Please read my other story Denying the Inevitable. There's an important A/N at the bottom.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Rage of Fire**

**Chapter 2**

**Half an Inch**

* * *

Ben Daniels took a double take when he saw the familiar name stare up at him from the leaf of paper.

His first though was that he couldn't do it. His second thought was: _What the hell?_

Alex Rider was always getting himself in trouble. Ben knew that for a fact. But the fact that _Hamilton_ of all people, hired _him_, worried Ben. He shook his head. He would just tell then man that he wouldn't do it. He had enough money.

As he closed the file, a sharp knock assaulted the door. Ben whipped out his pistol and held it at the ready. Cautiously, he opened the door.

The man that was behind it was tall and muscular. He looked young, around his mid-twenties. "Benjamin Daniels?" He asked in a smooth voice.

Ben looked at the man warily. "Yes?"

"I've received intel that you have been hired to assassinate one Alex Rider. I've came to make you a deal."

Ben raised an eyebrow and opened the door wider for the man to come in.

He did, stepping in, and his eyes darting, taking everything in at a moments glance.

Ben noticed. "Who are you?"

The man turned around to look Ben in the eyes. "Scorpia sent me. Instead of killing him, they want you to kidnap Alex Rider and bring him to us. We will pay you six times more than the original destined price."

That he could do. Ben whistled appreciatively. "You have yourself a deal. How do I contact you?"

The man turned around to leave the hotel room. "You don't contact us. We contact you. Don't expect to hear from us until the mission is accomplished."

With that, the man left.

Ben turned around. His gaze fell on the file laying open on the table. He closed the top and threw it in the raging fire in the fireplace, watching in grim satisfaction as the file was reduced to a pile of ash.

* * *

Alex gasped as he was shoved once _again_ into the rough, brick wall. He winced as it tore his already bruised skin.

He was pulled up roughly by brutal, calloused hands. He was manhandled from the underground tunnel and pushed into someone's open arms.

Alex was wrestled into what felt like a car and the blindfold was pulled from his eyes. A man, around the age of twenty five filled his vision.

"Is this him?" He asked someone that Alex couldn't see. A rough, jagged voice answered with something that was indistinguishable. The nodded as if satisfied and took out his pistol.

Alex's eyes widened as his intentions were made clear. "Hey, wait.." He began to protest but was cut off as the man pistol-whipped the seventeen year old. He grunted and turned to the driver.

"London Town Hotel, if you wouldn't mind."

The driver nodded and shoved his keys in the ignition.

* * *

**Please review and tell me what you thought. Should I continue?**

**Please go and read my other story, 'Denying the Inevitable'. It has an important A/N at the bottom. We have to get the story going! Thank you for your continued support!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Rage of Fire**

**By Half an Inch**

**Warning: Teensy bit of gore.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider in any way, shape, or form.**

* * *

Getting the kid into the hotel was a problem. Smith had go through the back door to get in without anyone see him lugging a seventeen year old unconscious teenager.

A messenger had already went on ahead and got him a room and he had already gotten the keys from one of his many contacts.

Smith cursed puberty as he allowed the teen to lean on him. Rider moaned painfully as Smiths shoulder dug into the wound on his head.

Smith didn't know why his boss wanted a kid of all people, but whatever the reason, Smith wouldn't- or rather, _couldn't_- question orders.

He rolled his eyes as he slid the card into the door and pushed it open. The room was dark, but he didn't bother turning on the light. He heard this kid was dangerous, thus wasting no time on binding his hands and feet with rough, coarse, rope.

The teen groaned from where Smith had tied him to the bedpost. Cracked rib, he mused. He was startled out of his thoughts as a smooth, emotionless voice said from the darkness,

"I'll take him now."

Smiths eyes narrowed. "Who are you? I was supposed to meet you at the dock."

The man detached himself from the shadows, and before Smith knew it, he had plunged a needle in his arm.

"There's been a change in plans."

As the man slumped unconscious, Ben walked towards the teen calmly. Alex groaned. "I'll get you out of here soon enough." He mumbled as he went to untie the kid from the bed.

Alex's eyes fluttered and he coughed. "Ben?"

Ben looked around. Then, he turned back to the spy. "Umm.. You're just hallucinating. We'll get you to the hospital, and then you can see Ben."

The teen just nodded fuzzily, though he still had a sliver of suspicion in his eyes, and fell back into unconsciousness.

When Ben had him untied, he slung his hand underneath the boys underarm, and pulled him up.

With him leaning heavily on Ben, they made slow progress down to the lobby.

It took some skill, getting the boy out without getting noticed, but Ben, being the assassin he was, managed. He knew that as soon as Alex snapped into it, he would recognize him.

True to his beliefs, before he could Alex into his car, the teen groaned. His eyes flashed dangerously as realized to a full extent who Ben was.

"_You_." He spat. Alex struggled to get out is his grip, but Ben squeezed his arm hard enough to bruise. "Stop struggling or I'm gonna have to tranq you." He warned Alex.

This did nothing in stopping the struggling boys attempts. MI6 had warned him of Ben. He had full knowledge that his partner had turned to the dark side, becoming a well known freelance assassin in the underworld.

They were interrupted by a shout on the south side of the garage. Smith. And he had brought back-up, Ben observed. Smith was leading, with three men following behind. All of them had their guns raised, leveled at Ben.

"Put. The boy. _Down_." Smith ordered, gesturing to the ground with his gun.

Ben raised his hands over his head, but not before pushing Alex aside. The blonde teenager yelped as he was slammed into a red Camry.

One of Smiths men eyed the boy warily, and inched his way slowly towards him. Ben watched him from the corner of his eye, helpless to do anything as Alex painfully straightened up and glared at him through his bangs.

The man lowered his gun slightly and reached towards him. That's when Ben made his move.

Faster than they could react, he had whipped out a gun and pulled the trigger.

Five shots echoed through the car garage.

Four bodies slumped to the floor, dead, neat holes in each of their foreheads. One body fell, severely injured. Someone groaned from behind Ben and he discovered exactly who took the last bullet.

Alex.

As if his state of health wasn't bad enough, they had to go and get the poor kid shot above it all. Ben felt no sympathy for the kid, but he supposed Scorpia didn't take well to failed assignments.

All the same, he crouched down to the ground. When Scorpia had ordered him to bring Alex Rider in, he had assumed it meant alive.

Experienced fingers ghosted above the wound. From what Ben could tell, the bullet had lodged itself into Alex's abdomen. It hadn't pierced any of the major arteries, but it had done a lot of damage. Alex could die if he didn't get medical attention soon.

The bullet had ricocheted off the ribs, collapsing a lung and hitting his pancreas. It would heal over time on its own, but he needed surgery to repair his lung and remove the bullet.

By the size of the entry spot, it was a .45 caliber, while the type of gun remained unknown.

By Alex being mortally injured, it complicated things tenfold. They would have to stop at a safe house to stitch him up, then bring him to Venice, where he would deposit Alex into Scorpia's 'caring' hands.

Ben swore as he heard the loud, painfully familiar, sound of an ambulance. He quickly managed to get the younger man into his car, and pull out of the garage.

While breaking a lot of driving laws, Ben continuously found himself studying Alex. His face was pale and clammy, and a thin sheen of perspiration gluing his shaggy hair to his forehead.

Ben was surprised, even though he knew he shouldn't be, to see a slight stubble on his well-defined jaw.

He was a young man after all. Alex groaned, reminding Ben that he had to get the teen someplace fast. Ben just decided that the designated safe house near Wallasey was way too far.

Normally, sixteen minutes wouldn't have been a big deal, but with Alex's life on the line, they just simply did not have the time.

Ben pulled up into the driveway of a house that had newspapers piling up outside. The owners must be on vacation, he mused, as he pulled Alex out of the car.

He broke into the house, an old, rickety, Victorian, by picking the lock. The interior was dusty and looked abandoned. Ben navigated his way towards what he assumed was the dining room.

He gently placed Alex on the large, rectangular table that looked like it could seat eight people.

Ben stretched out his hand, fingers searching the darkness for a light switch.

His hand hit the wall. He slowly made his way around the room, following the wall, until his fingers hit a metal switch.

He flicked it on. Light gushed from a chandelier above the table. For the first time, Ben could see the full extent of the boys injury.

He thought about taking him to a hospital, but immediately dispelled the thought. The last thing he needed was the media knocking on his door demanding to know how in the world a teenager got shot.

Besides, MI6 would know if their spy was in the hospital. Ben would be gunned down before he even thought about escape routes.

Alex needed help. And he needed it now.

* * *

"_Ben_?"

Ben mentally cheered as the faintly accented speech of his friend came over the line.

"Snake," he sighed in relief. "Listen, I need your help. Now."

Ben could hear the frown in the Scottish medics voice as Ben laid out his request. Snake knew that almost the only time someone from his old unit called him, it was because they needed medical help.

"_Where are you_?" He asked instead.

Ben walked out, reciting the address as read it. He hadn't payed much attention to it while driving in, due to his hasty manner.

"Bring your surgical instruments." Ben told him before Snake could hang up. Snake nodded, despite knowing Fox couldn't see him and fled out the door, grabbing his first-aid kit on the way out.

He quite literally jumped into his car and drove full speed down to the street Ben had mentioned. The house he was in looked haunted, if Snake said so himself. The only sign of inhabitance was the shiny-looking Lexus, and the light that was on in what he presumed was either the dining or living room.

He walked up to the ivy-covered entrance and hesitantly rung the doorbell. A couple seconds later, the door was opened by none other, than his former unit member, Ben Daniels.

His hands were bloody. Snake frowned. "Ben... What?..."

Ben opened the door farther, inviting him into 'his' house. Snake came in and rounded on his friend the moment he found his voice. "Ben. You left for almost _three years _without leaving us a clue as to where you were, and then, out of the blue, you call me? And with surgical items, I may add..."

His friend sighed. "Look. I'll explain everything. I promise. Just... We need to hurry."

Snake followed him as Ben led him down a hallway and into a dining room.

The source of the light. His eyes fell on the boy on the table, and he cursed. "Jesus... Ben. What happened?"

Ben shifted, trying to show his impatience. "Like I said, I'll explain. Just please... Help him."

Snake nodded and made his way towards him, even though his disapproval shined through his eyes.

"_Cub_?"

He hadn't seen the kid in almost three years, and he had changed drastically. Despite that, he was able to immediately recognize his unorthodox fifth member. He was tempted to pin Ben to the ground and demand why _exactly_ there was a boy with a bullet wound, unconscious, on his dining room table, but he held back.

For once, his unit mate was right. Cub needed help as soon as possible.

* * *

The grueling surgery took around seven hours, though Snake really hadn't payed attention through his extreme worry for Cub.

Through the surgery, he had stayed out cold, due to the IV Snake had hooked up in his arm. Ben had stayed silent through out the whole ordeal, arms crossed, and one leg bended on the wall.

Snake waited until he knew the kid wasn't in immediate risk of dying, until he pulled off his surgical gloves and glared at Ben.

"Explain. _Now_." As Ben opened his mouth, the medic shook his head. "First, tell me why you didn't take him to a hospital. If you wouldn't have called me when you did, he wouldn't have made it."

Ben looked warily at the Scottish man. "We both aren't really at the best of terms with MI6." He said.

"_MI6_?! So that's were you've been."

Ben started to speak, but he cut him off angrily. "Wait. Stop. We _both_?! Cubs Special Operations?"

"Look," Ben put a hand on his shoulder. "Jake. I'll explain. I swear-"

Jake shook his hand off and strode into the hallway. "I'm calling Wolf." He said, while pulling out his mobile.

Ben did the only thing he could.

He punched Jake in the face.

* * *

**I'm evil. Sorry if this was escalating too fast but I'm horrible at writing calm scenes. Plus I like action.. So.. Yeah.**

**Please tell me what you thought and if you liked it. Review and all that. Blah, blah, blah. **

**Should I continue this story?**


End file.
